


Made to Break

by anotherdroogie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Hook-Up, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 16:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11361267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherdroogie/pseuds/anotherdroogie
Summary: "You see, Mattie, people like me... We weren't meant to stay in one piece. I'm the kind of guy that gets quartered and still begs for more.""I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the same way."I SUCK AT WRITING SUMMARIES GOD I HATE THIS JUST TAKE THE EXCERPT AND HAVE FUN GUESSING WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN





	Made to Break

**Author's Note:**

> Also I'd like to issue a formal apology to APH Russia. Sorry son, I needed a bad guy...
> 
> (Translation note: Kaninchen = Bunny) (My German is very weak, please feel free to correct me on any mistakes I make)

Gilbert sighed as he looked down at his phone. He could hear Ivan yelling in the other room and then a bottle smashing. Goddammit, not another night of this. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the door to the bedroom creaked open. In a moment of panic, he shoved the phone under the pillow and laid down.

  
“Kaninchen?” Gilbert asked as Ivan’s figure loomed in the doorway, silhouetted by the hallway light. He could feel a lump rising in his throat as Ivan closed the door behind him and locked it. “Ivan? Is everything alright?”

  
Ivan stood at Gil’s side of the bed for a minute, then pointed to the door.

  
“Go. I don’t want you anymore.” Ivan’s words were slurred together and thick under his accent.

  
Gilbert sat up in shock, tears forming in his eyes. “You don’t want me anymore? And who the fuck has taken care of your sorry ass for the past two years? You know what? Fine! I don’t need you, I don’t need this!”

  
Before Gilbert could get another word out, Ivan’s hand had snuck its way around his throat. A low growl was heard before he was flung off the bed, landing on the tile floor with a loud thud. Gil let out a small cry and stood back up. Cradling his injured arm close to his body, Gilbert grabbed his phone from under his pillow and turned his back to Ivan.

  
Gilbert limped down the desolate hallway, where picture frames collected dust on the tops of them and the floorboards creaked under his bare feet. At the front door, he slipped into a ratty pair of sneakers and threw on the first jacket he saw. The cold night air nipped at his nose when he opened the door, but he knew he couldn’t stay. His brain was finally screaming that it was time for him to leave. Be free. Let the handler that clipped his wings hurt him no more, he was on his own. Gilbert shut the door behind him, and walked away from the man that plucked his feathers.


End file.
